


Life lessons

by musterings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 20s gladnis, Accidental Voyeurism, Barebacking, Established Relationship, Locker Room, M/M, Minor references to bullying, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, POV Original Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 04:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20401654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musterings/pseuds/musterings
Summary: With an arm still slung around his shoulders, Scientia turns and looks into Amicitia’s eyes, their faces so close to each other their noses could touch.Bit of an intimate position for two coworkers isn’t it?"Just for a little while?” Amicitia asks with an innocent lilt in his voice.One corner of Scientia’s lips tips upward slightly, “Onlyfor a little while then.”Written for the kink meme promptGladnis, semi-public sex, voyeurism, observer POV (non-canon)





	Life lessons

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK is there a single kink meme prompt I won't get carried away with??? 
> 
> also kinda deviated from the prompt a little by accident, but by the time I noticed it was 90% done so Original Requester if you're out there, I hope you don't hate it too much

Cole never settled quite right in the big city. The buildings were too tall and packed, the people all talked and walked too fast, always had somewhere to be. But Ma and Pa were getting antsy about the “political climate” as the radio tended to call it, so they sent Cole over to a cousin in the City, after mountains of forms, jumping through bureaucratic hoops and shelling out an exorbitant amount of money, all for a chance at a better life inside the Wall.

He was happy enough to spend the rest of days on his parents’ poultry farm, maybe raise a family there. In the City people just called ‘im like they saw ‘im: big and dumb and outta place. Least he was lucky enough to pass the Crownsguard tests, it gave him just that bit of reason to be there, and extra earnings to wire to Ma and Pa too.

But it wasn’t all a walk in the bush. Cole was always the biggest in his hometown, but here in the City, he shrank into the background like a losing pumpkin at a county fair. 

But the tight curfews and the Marshal's hard pushing drained his fellow recruits of their pride. So the older guys took it out on the newer guys, with their initiation rites and their hazing rituals and when the newer guys became the _ new _ older guys, they picked on the next set of new newer guys, and the square dance went on.

Cole'll sit outta _ that _ , thank you very much. But a guy his size pulled in attention, 'specially in a group of wired young adults who had something to prove. Especially if you're from _ outside _ too. Nothing terribly obvious. A shove in the hallway, a hit a smidge too hard in a spar, eggs crushed in his pillows. 

He brushed ‘em all off. Just the guys being guys. And Ma did always say to keep outta trouble if he could help it. 

But a keen eye spotted Cole picking the lock to a car one night, belonging to his fellow recruit and fast friend Natasya, who locked her keys in and looked about ready to burst into tears had Cole not shown up. 

And a keen mouth was good at spreading rumours.

“Heard that guy from the chick farm’s handy with a lock pick,” someone jeered in the mess hall.

“Really? Clucky Cole?” asked one of the more senior guard from behind him. Tiberius, his name was. 

Cole shrugged. He ain't made no such claim. Pa just locked himself outta the pickup miles away from the next service station often, and even Ma locked herself into one of the coops one time. Normal childhood experiences. 

“Why don’t you prove it then?” said Tiberius, rising from his seat, “Crack something open for us and bring back proof, and we’ll leave you alone.”

Cole's chewing slowed, and ignoring Natasya's elbowing from beside him, he asked, “Whose?”

Tiberius turned to meet the glances of cronies.

“Amicitia’s.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Cole bowed his head and resumed eating, “I’m not gonna touch the King’s Shield’s stuff. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Easy boy,” sneered Tiberius from over his shoulder behind him, “Just Shield Junior. You have an annoying face to you but I don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands. Break into his locker, bring back proof, and we’ll steer clear of your way.”

Gently, Cole set his fork down on the table and raised his head. None of the recruits at his table met his gaze. 

“What kinda proof?”

“I’ll take it easy on you,” said Tiberius with a sneer, “Bring back a towel. He’s got fancy ones with his name on 'em so we’ll know for sure you got in if you took one of those.”

One other recruit was challenged to set a pigeon free in the Marshal's car. Word is the guy still hasn't gotten the feel back in his feet yet since the hell the Marshal put him through.

At least Amicitia would be friendly enough to put him out of his misery right?

"If you do end up going," said Natasya through the tense silence, "Could you find out if the Lord Gladiolus Amicitia wears boxers or briefs?" 

Cole fixed her with a stare. 

"It's for research." 

***

It’s 11:00PM, and it’s funny how a place Cole’s in almost daily can look so different without the hustle and bustle of the people normally using it.

He faces the locker in front of him, his hands shaking from where it grips the pouch of his lock pick set, a present from his Ma after the coop incident. 

Amicitia stays back to get his own hours in after all the training he does for other people, and it's a wonder how he can keep going after all the work he does during the day. The guy's a beast!

Cole shakes the thoughts out of his head. No use scaring himself with the image of the guy that'll grind him to a pulp if he finds him, plus he’s been informed that Amicitia’s normally out of the halls by now and free to have any of his items pilfered. 

Amicitia gets a permanent floor length locker in the changerooms, clearly marked by the corner. Cole pops open the face of the knob of the combination lock, revealing a keyhole normally only used by maintenance and cleaning staff. He quietly works his lock pick into the keyhole glancing every few seconds over his shoulder. The lock clicks. _ Huh. _ It didn’t take much doing, it's just a basic combination lock. 

Cole opens the door to a mishmash of organised chaos. There's a pile of clothes and towels and a large bag in one corner, a hastily rolled up yoga mat propped up on top of them, a variety of lifting accessories and hoodies hanging off the back hooks, and an empty protein shaker, some nondescript boxes, a pair of glasses—_ Amicitia wears glasses?— _and bottles of toiletries in the top shelf.

Cole sifts through the corner pile of clothes and plush jet black towels, all mostly clean. And sure enough, they do have his name on them. Embroidered even, with _ GLADIOLUS AMICITIA _ in one corner in neat gold serif print— _ Who the hell embroiders gym towels? The rich sure do live a different life from us— _Thank you Mr. Shield. 

He’s about to pocket the towel when the door to the change room creaks open. 

Cole’s never had a heart attack before, but the rush of his blood to his ears and in his chest gets him pretty close to one as muffled conversation and footsteps on the tiled floor draw closer.

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck— _

His eyes dart from corner to corner, searching for a hiding spot, but the change room is all wide open space, nothing but lockers along the walls and benches in the middle, and it’s only plain luck that a partition covers him from the view of anyone entering. 

There's no time for him to run to the showers either.

He shoves himself into Amicitia’s locker, quietly closing it in on him, and holds on to the lock mechanism inside so it doesn’t lock him in.

The locker is wider than most others in the changeroom, but his frame has him standing almost sideways and hunching to fit. He angles himself towards the door, eye level with the locker vents, which are fortunately wide enough for him to peer through and see enough of the changeroom to check when the coast is clear.

The voices draw closer, one of them deep, rumbling and familiar, a voice that’s yelled at him before whenever he dropped his training sword in the middle of simulations.

And that was often. 

Cole loses all feeling in his limbs when Gladiolus Amicitia enters his field of vision through the vent, all large and imposing with his bulging muscles and tattoos, his tank top drenched in sweat, laughing loudly as he sits on the bench in front of his locker.

_ Why is he still here? Wasn't he supposed to have left? _

Cole’s stomach churns. _ Tiberius _ said that Amicitia would have left by now, and in his eagerness to get the task over with, he never questioned it. Cole mentally curses his stupidity. The real challenge was never the lock all along. 

He was set up for failure from the very beginning.

A second figure follows the Shield, breaking Cole out of his self-deprecating panic, and sits next to Amicitia.

_ The Prince’s Royal Advisor? What're they both doing here so late? _

He isn’t in his usual stuffy suit, rather he’s in a pair of shorts layered on top of compression tights and a loose t-shirt, his hair falling out of place from whatever workout Amicitia’s put him through, and his glasses are nowhere to be seen, but there’s no mistaking the clipped accent and stern countenance of Ignis Scientia.

Cole’s throat dries up. Any minute now Amicitia will have to open his locker so he can get changed, and right there he'll be caught red handed breaking and entering into Shield property, in front of the Prince’s Advisor no less.

They sit on the bench and they talk, casual and relaxed, unlike the guy tightly wound up in the locker in front of them. There’re mentions of their bustling work weeks, all chock full of authoritative soundin’ things, of Scientia’s improving deadly accuracy with his daggers, the Prince’s training, dinner with the King.

Cole pushes down the urge to vomit when the reality of who he’s dealing with hits.

The two men break into laughter at the end of one of Amicitia’s stories, and he stretches his arms out in a yawn, slinging an arm around the Advisor’s shoulder. 

"It’s getting late, Gladio,” the Advisor says with a coy smile, “Best we get going.”

_ Yes, you absolutely should! Take the big guy with you! _

"Come on Iggy, I feel like I’ve barely seen you this past week,” the Shield says with a wily grin, “Wanna hog ya for a little while." 

_ Can you hog him outside the change room then?! _

The Advisor shifts on his spot on the bench and mutters, "In the change rooms in the middle of the night Gladio? Not a very original idea."

_ What idea? _

“After this our schedules’ll be insane ‘til next week," Amicitia pulls the Advisor closer and lazily knocks the top of his head against his, “There’s no one ‘round this late, it’ll be fine.” 

Scientia casts his eyes downward, taking a moment to think, and sidles up closer to the Shield until there's no gap left between their sides. 

_ The hell? _

With an arm still slung around his shoulders, Scientia turns and looks into Amicitia’s eyes, their faces so close to each other their noses could touch. 

_ Bit of an intimate position for two coworkers isn’t it? _

"Just for a little while?” Amicitia asks with an innocent lilt in his voice. 

One corner of Scientia’s lips tips upward slightly, “_ Only _ for a little while then.”

He brings his face closer to Amicitia’s, and he angles it one way, Amicitia places a hand on Scientia’s jaw and—

_ Wait what? _

—firmly presses his lips against Scientia's. 

_ Amicitia and Scientia are— they're— the two of them— _

Cole peers through the vent with bulging wide eyes as the two men plant small kisses on each other’s lips. He’s torn between looking away and keeping a close watch for _ answers _ when Scientia kisses Amicitia harder and Amicitia matches the force of each one. 

Scientia parts his lips and Amicitia does the same, their tongues visible in the small gaps between the seal of their lips, Scientia wrapping his arms around Amicitia’s neck and Amicitia snaking his arms around Scientia's waist.

Now, Cole isn’t exactly a stranger to romance. He kissed a girl at a barn dance once, and then a boy from the dairy farm the next town over at, _ well _, another barn dance, both endin’ in a headbutt and a nasty bump on his partner's head. 

Suffice it to say, neither of those kisses were anything like this and just watching them sets his entire face on fire.

_ People from the City sure are wild. _

Every once in a while they'd break apart, Scientia’s hands gripping onto Amicitia’s shoulders while they stare into each other's eyes with a heat that’d make even the Glacian burn into a cinder, before diving back into each other’s embrace.

He should stop them. He's intruding in what should be a private moment here, he should make himself known._ Right? _ But if he does that, both of ‘em would be infuriated! _ That'd kill the mood right? _ And if he heard correctly, they haven’t done this in a while. He'd have to be a certified asshole to interrupt their moment! 

_ Right? _

The sound of rustling clothes pulls Cole's attention back outside, as Scientia climbs into Amicitia’s lap, wrapping his long legs around Amicitia’s waist and Amicitia moves back to sit with his legs on either side of the bench, giving Cole a profile view of their tangled bodies writhing against each other.

A near silent exhale rattles out of Cole's throat. 

_ Oh boy. _

Scientia goes at it like a man dying of thirst in the Leiden desert, sliding off Amicitia’s tank top over his head and letting it drop to the floor, his hands roaming all over the glistening tattooed muscle.

Cole had to hand it to the Shield. Scientia’s a handsome man. You know what, this is probably his last night on Eos before he's felled by Insomnia’s Strongest, and in his humble opinion, Most Attractive Couple, so he might as well say it, Scientia’s a handsome man with a fine piece of ass, small, but a fine one at that, and Amicitia has the self-control to just let the Advisor drink him up, the only sign of his arousal is in the tight grip he cups Scientia’s rear in and in the lazy gyrating movements of his hips against Scientia’s. 

_ Talk about discipline _.

Cole tries to crane his neck away from the vent but it only emphasises the change room’s amazing acoustics, their private murmurs between heated kisses amplified against the tiles, some kinda sweet, soft and repeated _ I missed you _ and _ gods I love you _ but some of them—

“_ I need your cock Gladio _,”

—some of them send a pool of heat and shame down Cole’s nether regions.

"Gladio—" Scientia whispers, grinding his definitely-an-erection against Amicitia’s also-definitely-an-erection-but-way-bigger.

_ Grey sweatpants make everything look huge huh? _

"Babe," Amicitia breathes out when they break for air, his thumbs rubbing at Scientia’s hip bones, "Can I hog you for just a little bit longer?" 

_ No! Say no! Sure, this is pretty intriguing to watch, but say no! _

Scientia doesn’t miss a beat.

"I'm all yours," he says with a fond smile and a single kiss on his partner’s forehead, which is kinda sweet, 'least it would be if Cole wasn't stuck watching this intimate exchange from inside someone’s locker.

_ Damn it man! You're meant to be the voice of reason here! _

They'll spend the rest of their evening together somewhere else _ right _ ? They're not going further in the training halls' change room of all places. _ Right? _ Hell that’s enough imagery to fuel Cole’s late night fantasies until retirement age, would you even need to go further than that? 

Scientia pulls himself off of Amicitia’s lap and he whispers something in Amicitia’s ear. He pulls Amicitia to stand up with him and their lips are joined again as he pushes Amicitia against a wall of lockers. 

The wall of lockers directly adjacent to the locker Cole is stuck in.

_ How convenient _.

Amicitia rolls his hips up against Scientia, and Scientia breaks off Amicitia’s mouth with a low moan. Scientia kisses his neck and down his bare torso, grazing his lips on his nipples, before bringing himself to kneel between Amiticia's legs, gingerly parting them further with his hands. 

_ Yep, they are indeed going further. In a change room. Of all places. _

Scientia looks up at the man above him and their gazes lock on each other for what feels like forever, the moment more intrusive than watching the two guys make out on the bench. 

The stillness is broken when Scientia leans in to mouth over the bulge in Amicitia's pants, eliciting a low groan from the other man in response. He licks a stripe up from the bare skin just above Amicitia's waistband to his abs, before leaning back and pulling down Amicitia's sweatpants, letting Amicitia kick them off along with his shoes and socks to one side. 

_ Boxer briefs. Go figure. _

Scientia's head moves forward towards Amicitias bulge and he licks up the front of the Shield's underwear, making his breath hitch in his throat. Scientia alternates between licking and ghosting his lips over the fabric, their gazes pinned on each other the entire time, and how they haven’t come already from that alone is beyond Cole.

Scientia pulls down the waistband of Amicitia’s underwear next, sitting back to toss the garment to the side, revealing, Cole will shit you not, the biggest dick he's ever seen practically springing out. 

_ Thing that huge has to have a mind of its own. _

Sitting back between Amicitia’s legs, Scientia takes the monster cock in one hand, an elegant set of fingers he normally hides in gloves that Cole now has the privilege of seeing, but wrapped around Amicitia's dick, stroking it in languid and deliberate motions. 

"Shit Iggy," says Amicitia.

Scientia’s drags his tongue upwards again—_ he’s licking _ up the underside of Amicitia’s bare dick— pausing to flick his tongue at the tip, coaxing a soft groan out of Amicitia.

"Here I thought you were gonna play hard to get," Amicitia continues, "Should’ve known you've been craving my cock." 

“Don't be so harsh on yourself," says Scientia, followed by a series of soft kisses he presses against Amicitia’s dick, “There's a lovely personality there that comes with the _ package _ as well.”

_ Wait— That was a— Was that just a pun— _

Amicitia’s laughs, the sound warm and loud until it breaks into a moan, when Scientia takes the head of his dick into his mouth without warning, one hand wrapped around the base of Amicitia’s dick, the other down his own trousers. Scientia’s head bobs, lower and lower, the sounds of skin creating suction against skin punctuating each movement, as he works to take in more and more of Amicitia’s cock, before he gains a rhythm, his head bobbing up and down and his hand pumping in time to the movements of his head.

Never in the two years Cole’s spent with the Crownsguard, did he ever think he’d see the Prince’s Advisor on his knees sucking the Prince’s Shield off like a pro.

"You’re really enjoying this aren’t’cha Iggy?" mutters Amicitia between shallow breaths, "Look at you touching yourself 'cos you love stuffing your mouth with my cock." 

And the way they talk to each other! 

Cole would die of embarrassment if he ever said such things to a lover, and if he had someone to say ‘em to, first thing’s first, but the way the words rumble out in Amicitia’s baritone unfurls something heavy in his gut and he balls his fist to fight the urge to bring his hand anywhere down there.

And Scientia, Ignis Scientia, the paragon of pressed suits and punctuality, prim and proper Ignis Scientia, _ moans _ around the dick in his mouth, and he draws back to drag the flat of his tongue with a loud slurp, before wrapping his lips around the head again and pushing his head down further for his lips to meet his hand, taking it in deeper than before. 

He takes Amicitia's dick in his mouth like he's done this plenty times before. And he must be doing something right, since it’s got Amicitia tangling his fingers in his hair and gripping hard, groaning and bucking his hips into every movement of Scientia’s head. 

“Iggy,” grunts Amicitia, “Slow down for a sec babe,” and Scientia eases off with a soft pop, giving a moment’s reprieve to all three men in the room.

"Wanna take me?" 

"I thought that's where this was going," says Scientia, and Cole swallows when he idly rubs Amicitia's dick against his cheek, "I've lube in my gym bag. Front pocket."

"So you _ did _ want this."

"I was going to wait until I had you back in my apartment, but you had me sidetracked." 

_ Lucky me huh! _

"I'll let ya take me home when I've had my way with you here, don't you worry," says Amicitia with a chuckle.

"Aren't you generous." 

"That's why you've stuck with me for so long right?" says Amicitia. He pats Scientia on the cheek, "Up you get, I want ’cha leaning back here."

The Advisor stands and leans his hands on the locker where Amicitia once stood and takes off his shoes and his socks, kicking them to the corner. Still clothed, and his erection’s showing through his shorts, but at least he’s still clothed. 

Ma always did say to count the small mercies in life. 

Amicitia moves behind him to place his hands on Scientia’s hips, and he looks so much bigger standing over an already tall man like Scientia like that. He leans in and kisses and nips at the nape of Scientia's neck biting and sucking red marks on the exposed skin, while he grinds his erection, standing bare and ready, against the cleft of Scientia's clothed rear.

Amicitia pulls Scientia's shorts down, stopping to grope Scientia's ass through his compression tights, before peeling the tights clinging to his sweat soaked skin off too, slowly, like they have all the time in the world and face it, they do, there's probably no one else around to stop them, and Cole sure as hell ain’t gonna try for fear of his life.

Plus, there are worse fates than catching two of his fellow Crownsguard goin’ at it like dogs in heat in public. The wrath of the Marshal for one. 

And they _ are _ easy on the eyes. 

_ Small mercies, small mercies. _

Amicitia runs his hands up Scientia's torso under his shirt, before lifting the hem up, and pulling it over his head, revealing an expanse of pale skin, firm with lean muscle. Scientia definitely works out. Sure, Amicitia’s ripped_ , _ anyone with a working eyeball could see that _ , _but Scientia hides it all under his suits.

The shirt’s chucked to the corner and Amicitia’s hands travel up Scientia’s torso to squeeze at his pecs, pinching his nipples between his thumb and forefinger, which looks like it should hurt more than anything, but it has Scientia arching his back, pushing his chest into Amicitia’s hands and simultaneously seeking friction between Amicitia grinding behind him and his rear, so maybe Cole’s the misinformed one here.

Amicitia releases his nipples and slips his hand under the waistband of Scientia’s underwear, the outline of his hand showing through the fabric as he strokes up and down the Advisor’s erection, whispering more soft words in his ear, too inaudible for Cole to hear.

He tucks a finger under Scientia’s waistband on either side of his hips and slowly pulls his underwear down his long slender legs, delicately, licking his lips like he’s unwrappin’ himself the last bit of fudge at the bottom of the tin. 

Scientia exhales sharply as his cock is set free, and it looks about ready to blow, already leaking fluid at the tip. It’s not as big as the Shield’s but it’s not that bad lookin’, just like the rest of the guy.

_ Okay, so I’m comparing their dicks now. _

Cole will most likely be dead come sun-up. Give the guy a break.

Amicitia kneels behind Scientia, plants a kiss on his tailbone and pushes the cheeks of his ass out to either side, and pauses to hold his mouth above the spot between them. 

_ What's that meant to do? _

It does _ something _ apparently. Scientia was completely still but now his torso fills and hollows with the deep breaths he takes in and releases, his forehead pressed against his forearms.

Amicitia rubs lazy circles with his thumbs into Scientia’s rear, Scientia's fingers curling into his palms with every movement, then Amicitia leans in and plants another soft kiss—

_ What? _

—right in the middle of Scientia's asscheeks. 

_ WHAT? _

Scientia releases a sharp gasp and Amicitia smiles proudly before he leans back in and runs his tongue over the same spot. 

_ M-mouths can go down there? _

It's hard to see what Amicitia's doing with his mouth, but whatever it is, it makes Scientia gasp and push back against Amicita’s face, as Amicitia draws his head back before sticking his tongue out into middle of Scientia’s ass with the tip, then takes Scientia's cock in hand to stroke. 

He uses the flat of his tongue to lick the spot again, the slurping sounds interspersed with his soft grunts and Scientia’s panting stirring something in Cole’s groin. Amicitia pulls back briefly, drawing his tongue rigid and pushes it in, moaning into Scientia's ass. 

_ But isn’t that where the— _

Scientia lets loose a resounding satisfied groan. 

Cole wasn’t born yesterday, folks can use the ass in— in— _fornication_, that’s a simple fact, but a tongue?

_ Was that even meant to feel good? _

Scientia's controlled breaths become long drawn out moans, and he shoves his rear against the Shield's face, his forearms sliding down the locker door in front of him as he struggles to keep his shaking knees from buckling and stay upright.

_ It’s got the Scientia seal of approval, seems like. _

Amicitia pulls back once more and the sight of the trail of spit that connects his mouth to the entry to Scientia’s ass sends a faint pulse of pleasure into Cole’s possibly-a-semi-erection.

"Forgot how much I loved how you sound," says Amicitia, pausing to lightly stroke Scientia's cock, "It's been too long."

"You're being dramatic my love," Scientia sighs, "You sucked me off in my car three days ago." 

_ This isn't one time thing. _

"I like to refresh my memory," says Amicitia with a chuckle. 

_ They definitely do this often. Thanks for the confirmation! _

Amicitia leans back and digs a small bottle out of Scientia's gym bag on the floor. He uncaps the bottle and squeezes out a clear liquid onto his fingers, drawing himself up to full height behind the Advisor and brings one finger to press between Scientia's ass cheeks, kissing his shoulder as he rubs the spot.

"That's it Gladio," sighs Scientia, his face pressed into his forearms once again.

"You're pretty tight hon," mutters Amicitia into his ear, as his finger disappears past Scientia's cleft, re-emerges and sinks back in again, eliciting soft high-pitched gasps, "Would've thought you'd be playing with this without me." 

"I haven't had the time—" Scientia gasps out, "Got close to it this morning, with those pictures you sent me,”—another high pitched gasp—“_ Gladio— Oh—" _

"You liked 'em?" chuckles Amicitia, and Cole doesn't miss when he sinks in two fingers, inching slowly to the knuckle into Scientia, turning and stroking, "Was that what you were thinking hard about at the meeting this morning?" 

Scientia releases a wretched moan and hastily nods his head. 

"That's sweet. 'Been thinking' bout you too beautiful," Amicitia says with a soft smile. He kisses at the junction of Scientia’s neck, and Scientia moans as two fingers become three. 

_ How'd they even fit in there!? _

Scientia rocks back onto Amicitias fingers, his breathing shallow with every movement. 

“Think you’re ready?” Amicitia asks,

"Yes—" says Scientia, "I want you inside me Gladio." 

_ Isn't he already? Like with the fingers and all— _

Scientia reaches behind him and palms at Amicitia's dick. 

_ Oh. _

_ OH. _

"Heard you loud and clear Iggy." 

_ How would THAT even fit?! _

Amicitia sits back down on the bench, again in front of his locker and its current inhabitant, and he pats the top of his thighs. 

Scientia walks over and faces him but Amicitia grabs him by the hips to turn him around and pull his rear into his lap. 

_ You're joking right? _

"C'mere gorgeous, I want to watch that sweet little ass of yours take my dick," mutters Amicitia into Scientia's ear, bucking his hips behind him, "What with you showing it off during our training session all evening, it’s probably what you want me to do huh?"

_ This has to be a joke. _

Seated in his lap, Scientia only groans in approval, and Amicitia pulls Scientia’s left leg outwards, their position giving Cole a front seat view of Scientia’s leaking cock, and his ass once more taking in Amicitia’s thick fingers.

Cole goes light-headed as all the blood from his head rushes down south.

_ The Shield’s a pervert. I’m gonna die and it’s all ‘cause the Shield’s a pervert. That’s goin’ on my tombstone. _

Amicitia pulls his fingers out, and leans to the side to dig through Scientia’s gym bag.

"No condoms on ya?" 

"No," says Scientia, "I was going to take you home remember?"

"Hang on," says Amicitia, slowing his hips, "I got some in my locker gimme a sec—" 

Cole casts his eyes to the top shelf holding the small boxes hiding amongst Amicitia's toiletries. 

_ Dear Ma and Pa, If you are reading this, please know that I died nobly— _

"Gladio," Scientia lightly wraps his hand around Amicitia's thick wrist as he makes to take him off his lap, and turns his head to face Amicitia behind him, "We could do without one." 

_ Dear Ma and Pa, disregard earlier letter, I owe my life to Ignis Scientia and his, um, proclivities. _

Cole can't see Scientia's face when he speaks to the Shield, but Amicitia’s eyes light up, his brows raised in amusement. 

"Y’sure Iggy?" 

"I am absolutely sure that I do not want to sit here and watch you fiddle with a combination lock, goodness knows how much trouble this one gives you," says Scientia with what little breath he could muster, "And we do need to shower anyway. Besides," he leans in and kisses Amicitia, and says in barely a whisper that Cole strains his ears to hear, "I've thought about having your cock inside me all week, I can't bear to wait a moment longer." 

Cole squeezes his fist so hard his fingernails dig into his palms.

"_ Iggy, _" groans Amicitia, and from between Scientia's parted legs, Cole watches mesmerised as Amicitia squeezes more of the viscous liquid from the bottle onto his cock and coats it with his hand, "You have any idea what you do to me?"

"Not a clue," says Scientia with an innocent smile. 

A loud booming laugh echoes around the change room as Amicitia places one hand back on Scientia's hip, and uses his other hand to line his cock up behind him. 

Bit by bit Scientia sighs and groans as he eases the cock into himself and Amicitia rubs circles into his hips, up until Scientia's almost seated in his lap. 

_ How the hell did THAT even fit?! _

Scientia breathes heavily as he slowly lifts himself up, his hands gripping on Amicitia’s solid thighs, before sitting back down again, his feet planted on the floor, with Amicitia leaning his hands back on the bench. He continues these motions slowly at first, his mouth parted slightly at each stroke, until eventually he picks up his speed, bouncing his ass up and down in Amicitia’s lap. 

"You feel so good Iggy," Amicitia groans, bucking his hips up every few moments, "Looks good too, watchin' your slutty little ass take me in." 

One particular thrust wrenches a broken moan from Scientia that reverberates against the tiles, startling Cole into jolting in his spot in the locker and knocking over one of the shampoo bottles from the shelf above his head. 

"What was that?" asks Amicitia.

_ Shit shit shit— _

Luckily, Scientia’s continued movements and gasps echoing across the changeroom mask the direction of the sound.

Amicitia sits up and puts a hand over his mouth, but Scientia doesn't slow his rhythm, his moans turned into muffled whimpers. 

"Do you _ want _ someone to hear us?" 

Scientia pulls the hand off of his mouth, "'_ There's— there's no one else around— it'll be fine—’” _he releases another moan when he lowers himself in Amicitia's lap, containing the volume with a bite on his lower lip, “Isn't that what you said?”

“Just be quiet for a sec,” Amicitia places his hand back over his mouth, and his eyes shift from side to side, listening out for the noise again.

His pulse pounding in his ears he feared the two men could hear it, Cole holds his breath.

But Scientia starts moving again, rolling his hips in small motions, whimpering through the hand on his mouth.

“I swear,” groans Amicitia, “You’re a lot less skittish ‘bout these things when you got my dick in ya.”

Scientia pauses in Amicitia’s lap and wrenches the hand off his mouth again, “There's nothing to worry about.”

“How’re you so sure?”

“I train alone often at this time,_ you know this _—” he sighs, “I always check the reception desks—” he brings himself up with a gasp, “No one’s ever scanned in.”

“And if someone is,” he sits himself back down in Amicitia’s lap with a huge sigh, pausing to take a breath, while the man under him grunts in exertion, “I’ll take care of it.”

Allowing himself the most silent of gulps, Cole holds himself completely still.

Even while naked, flushed and impaling himself on someone else’s dick, the Advisor’s words can still send chills down his spine. 

Scientia plants a small kiss on the other man's chin and resumes his movements. 

Seemingly convinced, Amicitia brings his hands back up to Scientia's hips, angles his own hips and bucks upward hard causing Scientia to yell, and Cole is careful to curb any further reactions, not wanting to waste another out Scientia's given him. 

"Still too loud babe."

Amicitia places one hand back over Scientia’s mouth and thrusts upward again, causing him to scream through closed lips into his hand. 

"Much better." 

He keeps his grip on Scientia's mouth, giving him leverage to keep thrusting his hips harder upwards with every movement of Scientia's downwards, Scientia’s movements eventually losing their rhythm as he weakly continues to ride his cock, his feet scrabbling for purchase against the tiled floor.

He squeezes Amicitia's bicep behind him and Amicitia releases his mouth. 

"Gladio— Oh!" Scientia gasps, "_ Please—" _

"Please what Iggy?" 

"_ Please fuck me harder." _

Cole swallows a silent scream down his dried up throat.

"Promise to keep the volume down?" asks Amicitia with a sly smile that implies quite the opposite of his request. 

"I make no guarantees," Scientia sighs back. 

"You're lucky I love ya," says Amicitia with a fond smile. He picks up Scientia by the thighs from behind his knees in either hand, resting the Advisor's back against his chest and pulls his legs open wider, the angle putting the sight of Amicitia's cock buried in Scientia's ass on full display for their unintended audience. Amicitia sits up and thrusts harder up into Scientia's ass and since his hands are occupied and there's no muffling the Advisor, Scientia can only moan louder, his voice hitching higher with every thrust. 

“_ Your cock feels so good Gladio— _”

Cole squeezes his eyes shut, even kneels away from the vent to give the two their privacy but the lack of vision only intensifies the sounds of their lovemaking, the slaps of their skin seemingly echoing louder against the tiles and into the locker and the moans of his his fellow Crownsguards’ names seared forever in his mind.

“_ Oh Gladio—! Gods yes—!” _

_ “Fuck Iggy I love your ass— You feel so good—” _

And so, Cole makes the decision to raise his head back up to the vents and keep watching. 

_ Issat what Ma always called the lesser of two evils? _

Scientia's head lolls back on Amicitias shoulder, one hand reaching behind him to grip at the back of Amicitias head, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging hard, whilst he uses the other to stroke himself. His eyes are screwed shut and he sounds positively wretched and wrecked as Amicitia takes his full weight in his arms, thrusting in time to Scientia's strokes and leaving bitten marks on his neck. 

They're almost perfectly in sync, just like in their battle demonstrations for recruits—Cole will never see _ those _ the same way again—Cole would be impressed if he wasn't so mortified and painfully aroused. Scientia isn't exactly delicate, his build solid with lean muscle. Can't exactly be easy holding him up in that position whilst also maintaining that onslaught on the man's ass and craning over to suck and bite at his neck at the same time. 

_ Guess all that Shield trainin' comes in handy in other ways. _

With his fingers digging deep into pale flesh of Scientia's thighs, Amicitia continues his thrusts with deep gravelly groans, every second thrust wrenching loud sobs from Scientia, and making him tug at Amicitia's hair harder. 

"I'm going to come Gladio—" 

"I got ya," Amicitia releases a hand from his leg, leaving it dangling on his elbow, and wraps his hand around Scientia's, using the other man's hand to stroke his dick, and Scientia's feet flex and his toes curl with every stroke, "Come on babe— Let go for me— " 

After a few more rough strokes and hard thrusts up his ass, Scientia releases a loud cry, his legs trembling in Amicitia's lap as his dick spills all over their hands, Amicitia's large hand around his slowing their strokes through it. 

Slumping limply in Amicitia's lap and his head still on Amicitia's shoulder, Amicitia tips Scientia's head up by the chin to capture his lips in a sloppy kiss while he releases bitth of Scientia's legs, letting his feet dangle near his ankles. 

With a satisfied smile, Amicitia stands up to full height. Still buried inside Scientia and his hands on Scientia's hips to help him stand on shaky legs, he pushes him to lean against the locker in front of them.

Against his own locker, that is. 

The locker our intrepid Cole is currently locked in. 

_ No no no nonononono— _

Amicitia blocks out the light entering the locker and the only view Cole has now is of Amicitia’s face, his expression contorted in exertion, his complete concentration on his lover letting Cole hunch down further, bringing his face away from the vents. 

The locker door starts pushing against its jamb, lightly at first, the metal clanging and Scientia’s weak moans reverberating through the locker door, ringing along to the loud pulse in Cole’s ears—

“_ Harder Gladio— Harder—” _

The locker door starts slamming into the jamb louder, repeatedly, mimicking the strength and the speed of the Shield's thrusts—

“_ You feel so good Iggy _—”

His voice laden heavy with lust, Amicitia grunts with each slam of the locker door into the jamb and Scientia sucks in a harsh breath—

“_ Gladio— Ah—!" _

And it slams again and again, crashing like cymbals and Cole grips his wrist to still the shaking hand holding the door closed— 

“_ Gods Iggy I love you so much _—”

The locker door slams over and over and over, Scientia’s sobs echoing through the vents and Amicitia grunts with every forceful crash of the door, resounding and loud like they were right in Cole’s ear—

“_ Gladio— Ngh! Gladio—!" _

The locker door slams continue in succession, becoming more and more erratic—

“_ I’m close Iggy, gonna come—” _

_"Inside love—_ _Please inside me—" _

Until the locker door slams, once, twice, thrice, four and then five more times—

“_ Ignis—!" _

And one last slam halts the door flush in its jamb with a booming clang, just in time for Cole to absorb the obscene chorus of ragged groans and low wretched moans echoing through the metal door.

Cole swallows a hard lump down his throat, and looks down in the dark, down at the tightness in his pants.

A stream of light re-enters the locker as Amicitia’s face moves away from the vents. Cole stands back up as far as the height of the locker allows, and he looks back out.

Their bodies still connected, Amicitia pulls Scientia to sit back on the bench, Scientia whimpering as his weight is released back into larger man’s lap. Scientia turns Amicitia's head over to him, taking his lips in another kiss_ — _ if you could call it that, ‘cause it sounds all wet and laden in tongue _ — _while they exchange hushed whispers between kisses, their breathing slow and heavy.

A surge of relief courses through Cole as he releases his own breath he's been unintentionally holding in. 

_ It's over now right? _

But it's made his predicament worse. Amicitia will have to open his locker soon now that they’re done. And when he does, it’ll be with the realization that Cole's been present for their private moment, the _ entire _ moment, him and his obviously-an-erection peeking through his uniform pants. 

With a wet smack of lips, the couple in front of him break apart from their kiss. 

_ Dear Ma and Pa— _

Scientia pulls himself off Amicitia's cock, wincing down at the fluid he spills on the floor, only to sit back down on Amicitia's lap face to face, his legs once again around his waist, pulling him in for sweeter, more chaste sounding kisses, Scientia’s forehead on Amicitia's, blocking both of their faces from Cole’s view. Tender whispers exchange lips, and Amicitia's hands lightly trail down Scientia's spine, just as Scientia's fingers trawl through the Shield's hair with delicate motions, like he's undoing the pain he must've caused with all his pulling.

A bigger pit of guilt forms in Cole’s gut, feeling more so that he's intruding than when he was actually _ watching _ them have sex. 

"I needed that," mutters Scientia only barely audible enough for Cole to hear. He slings one arm behind Amicitia's neck and he adds, followed by another soft kissing sound, “Correction, I needed you.” 

"Love you too Iggy," Amicitia responds with a low chuckle, there's more soft kissing noises, before Amicitia mouths down the crook of Scientia's neck, "That invitation to your place still open?" 

"I must admit I was beginning to have second thoughts until you reminded me of what I've been missing." 

"Good to know I still live up to your standards," The bright smile on Amicitia's face is fond as he looks up as the Advisor in his lap, "Wanna warm up a shower for us while I get my things outta my locker?" 

_ Dear Ma and Pa, if you are reading this letter, I'm most likely— _

"You can use the toiletries I've brought," says Scientia, "You’d be better off with mine anyway, and not whatever discount store brand you use." 

—_ not dead. Yet. But Ignis Scientia is now my god, and my saviour. Note to self: buy the guy a present. _

“I’ll have you know Iris keeps me in check,” Amicitia eyes squint up with a chuckle, "And you say that but you just want me in the shower with you faster." 

"Yes," Scientia unwraps his legs from around Amicitia and brings himself up to his unsteady feet, his hands in Amicitia’s holding him steady, "But only to _ shower _." 

"I'll have you singing a different tune soon enough—" croons Amicitia. 

He gets up and grabs his gym towel from the floor next to Scientia’s bag and wipes up the liquid that's spilled between Scientia's legs. 

Cole looks down at the gym towel at the top of the pile of the Shield’s laundry.

_ Issat why he has so many of them here? _

“That is not what I gave you those for Gladio,” tuts Scientia, but he kisses the other man’s nose in thanks anyway, 

“What, you don’t like rubbing me between your legs?”

Scientia sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“_ You’re _ the one who got me towels with my name on 'em, you’re gonna have to live with the innuendo,” says Amicitia with a smirk, leaning down to wipe up the come they've spilled on the bench and on the floor. 

Another bit of Crownsguard trivia for the day, Ignis Scientia gifts his lover embroidered towels.

_ The rich really do live a different life from us. _

He's done a good job of the cleanup, but Cole will most likely never get close to that side of the change rooms ever again. 

"You haven't lost a towel since you've started using them," says Scientia, 

"No I haven't but the recruits _ laugh _ behind my back Iggy—" 

"Then laugh at them back—" 

Their voices trail away with the sounds of their bare feet against tiles, ending with more laughter and the sound of a shower stream. 

Cole scrambles to grab and pocket the towel, gotta make this near death experience worth it somehow, the towel's multiple uses be damned, and slowly and carefully, he emerges from the locker, locks it closed and lets himself out of the change room.

Ain't sticking ‘round to hear that change of tune. 

***

Curled up in his dorm bed, Cole stays awake for two reasons. 

One, his raging hard-on demands to be attended to but his morals beg to differ. 

Ma never did impart life lessons pertaining to jerkin' off to your fellow men in arms. 

Unable to erase the memory of Amicitia’s face twisted in pleasure as Scientia took him in his mouth, and of Scientia’s rasped and ragged moans, he's not sure if he'll ever see them the same way again. Just the simple act of Scientia saying the Shield's name, which happens often as coworkers, would be enough to unearth such vivid images. He won’t be able to look any of them in the eye again, at least not without imagining Amicitia’s large dick in his pants, or the red marks hiding under the Advisor’s nearly pressed shirts.

The tightness in his pants soon become too painful to ignore, so he resigns himself to it, telling himself that it was to attractive men with enthusiastic sex drives who he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time to witness. 

That’s just how life is sometimes.

Ma always said somethin’ like _ that _ right?

Doesn't dampen the shame of his orgasm though, if he were bein' honest. 

And two, when he had grabbed the towel, he accidentally picked up something else from the Shield’s pile of clothes with it.

A dark pair of briefs, too small to be the Shield's, now burns a hole at the bottom of his own duffel and in his conscience. Cole squeezes his eyes shut and the image of a pair of glasses atop the locker shelf flashes in his head. They could only belong to one person.

***

Cole walks into the mess hall the following afternoon, and Amicitia’s nowhere to be seen. Normally he likes to eat with the recruits and his fellow Crownsguard, but he's off spending his lunchtime with Scientia, one fellow recruit had dreamily informed him.

"They spend their lunchtimes talkin’ ‘bout the Prince! They're so committed to their work," she sighed.

The spoils of his excursion clutched in his fist, he marches through the gaps between tables and benches, straight to the table in the center.

Everyone in the mess hall turn their heads to follow him, until he stops behind Tiberius.

Cole taps him on the shoulder.

Slamming his fork down on the table, Tiberius turns to fix him with an amused stare. 

Silence permeates through the hall as all its patrons eye the two figures.

Cole thrusts his arm into the air, brandishing the unravelled gym towel in his grip, and the entire mess hall breaks out into one deafening cheer.

"There it is. _ Gladiolus Amicitia _. Looks super posh huh? Whaddya reckon the thread count's on this Tib?" says one guard beside Tiberius, "It's true. Clucky Cole here really had the balls to crack open Amicitia's locker." 

Some of the recruits scramble from their seats to pat his back, to ask him what was inside, was there any chance he'd be caught? 

Cole responds with short replies and terse nods. 

“See anythin’ juicy in there?” someone asks.

Scientia’s thinly veiled threat echoes in his mind.

“Nope,” Cole says, the Shield and Advisor's secret relationship, Scientia’s predisposition for puns and Amicitia’s displays of strength during bareback sex a secret he will take with him to the grave, “It was just a locker. Nothin’ special.”

He walks up to Natasya's table, and mutters "Boxer briefs" into her ear before taking the towel back from an incensed Tiberius, and excusing himself from the mess hall.

Cole’ll have to leave the towel in the training halls later and hopefully it’ll find its way to its rightful owner. They were labelled pretty clearly, after all.

But for now, he had one last thing he needed to do. 

***

The floor receptionist smiles at Ignis as he exits the elevator and Ignis halts the tune he’s humming to nod in acknowledgement. He catches himself humming a tune again as he walks back into his office. 

He and Gladio had been hard-pressed for time lately, what with official events and meetings always lining up in waves. It’s been a trial for both of them to make time for each other, but they try, and it makes the moments they do have together all the more valuable. But as much as he secretly enjoys their dalliances—in hallways, their offices, their cars, in _ training halls’ change rooms _—nothing can replace thoroughly enjoying Gladio in his own bed, falling asleep in his arms and waking up in his warm embrace. 

It’s enough to add a spring (and maybe also a limp) to Ignis’s step that’s set to last the entire day, his lunchtime with Gladio an additional source of his reinvigorated energy.

He’s mentally collating his to-do list for the rest of the afternoon when his focus only barely stops him from colliding with one of the new recruits walking the opposite direction.

The recruit is tall, almost as tall as Ignis, his sinewy frame built through labour rather than meticulous bodybuilding, his skin tanned, and his dark hair lightened from constant exposure to the hot Leiden sun. 

"Sorry um, sir didn't see you." 

Gladio's mentioned him before, but a name struggles to surface in Ignis’s head. Promising young lad, clever, but meek and hesitant. Clumsy, but works well in stealth. Grew up on a poultry farm now was it? 

"Quite alright,” says Ignis, “Heading back to the training halls I presume?" 

The young man doesn't meet his gaze. He lifts his head to try here and there, his face a deep red, but his eyes never quite meet Ignis's.

"Yes sir."

"Could you actually deliver something over for me?" asks Ignis, reaching into his pockets for a folded piece of paper, “I seem to have grabbed his copy of Noctis’s draft schedule in my haste and he’ll need it this afternoon—”

“To whom sir?” asks the recruit, his eyes looking past Ignis’s head,

“Gladio,” says Ignis.

The mention of his name breaks the recruit's face into a painful grimace. 

“I’m ‘fraid I can’t sir.”

"Sorry?" 

"I um, have to, change,” the recruit stumbles, “Change my socks. Apologies. Good day sir."

And off he goes, his strides purposeful and brisk, eyes still fixed on some far off wall. 

_ What a peculiar lad. _

But there was no malice in that interaction, strange as it was. The young man did seem like he was in a hurry to get somewhere. Maybe it was a practice he brought with him from outside the Wall? 

Ignis unlocks and enters his office, and his eyes catch on to a box of shrink-wrapped chocolates on his desk.

"Huh." 

They're nothing fancy, the brand one of the better grocery store variants. He turns the box over in his hands. There's no card nor note.

Ignis glances back at his door. He unlocked it to enter hadn’t he? It was most certainly locked when he left it for lunch.

He snaps a picture of the box and attaches it to a message to Gladio. 

**Ignis: ** _ Is this from you? _

**Gladio: ** _ nope _

_ >trust me Iggy I'd be more romantic _

_ >I would be on your desk WITH THEM _

_ >on my nipples _

**Ignis: ** _ Gladio. _

**Gladio: ** _ ik ik not the time ;) _

_ >sounds like someone's got an admirer tho _

_ >do I have competition? _

**Ignis: ** _ Better step up your game then. _

**Gladio: ** _ just watch me!!! _

A returned photo of Gladio's exaggerated flexing in front of a mirror brings another bright smile to Ignis's face, momentarily forgetting his worries until he glances back at the chocolates. 

An out of place occurrence, but not enough to throw a damper on his good mood. Nothing else in his office looks out of place and a quick check through his drawers confirm that none of his more important documents have gone missing. If it continues to nag at him, he’ll ask for surveillance footage later. 

There’s no evidence of tampering in the chocolate wrapping, so he gives them to the floor receptionist to keep, along with a request to find someone to deliver Gladio’s draft schedule to him if at all possible, and returns to his office to work.

Later that evening he shuffles the paperwork into folders he’s taking with him to Gladio’s apartment—revising changes to government reports will surely be more enjoyable leaning against Gladio’s side, glasses of wine on the coffee table between them—and opens his briefcase to slip them in.

He reaches into the back flap to fish out his car keys and—

Funny. 

He doesn't recall leaving a change of underwear in his briefcase.

**Author's Note:**

> **Epilogue.**  
Word spreads of the recruit who dared break into the Shield-in-Waiting’s locker, right at a time where it was set up that he’d be caught, but _doesn’t._
> 
> “Who’d you say it was who got in?” asked Amicitia to one fresher recruit, one who had the misfortune of responding before turning to see who he was talking to,
> 
> “Clucky Cole! And the Shield never even found out! The guy’s an idiot huh?”
> 
> Amicitia showed the recruit exactly who the idiot was between them before separating Cole from the rest of the recruits to confront him about the rumours. He’s pissed off sure, but Cole’s always been a good kid. He has to hear his side of the story.
> 
> Valuing honesty above all, but also more frightened of Amicitia than a pack of bullies, Cole spills everything to him—leaving out the timeframe, unaware that Amicitia and Scientia fool around in the changerooms often enough that Amicitia wouldn’t even realise he was fucking Scientia against his locker on _that_ particular evening if Cole specified when the break-in was—but details who put him up to it and what all the others are going through, bringing the wrath of the Shield and the Marshal, who was still scrubbing out pigeon droppings from his car seat weeks later, to his side and stamping out bullying from the Crownsguard.
> 
> The mystery of the apparition of Scientia's underwear in his briefcase remains unsolved.
> 
> ***
> 
> this was just sitting around my docs and although i think it's too ridiculous, even for me, i figure I should set it free and hope someone out there likes it


End file.
